


Out Of Sight

by Original_Cypher



Series: Teen Wolf drabbles (mostly gonna be Sterek) [8]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek's POV, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-22
Updated: 2013-08-22
Packaged: 2017-12-24 08:24:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/937770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Original_Cypher/pseuds/Original_Cypher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's not even gone a week and he gets a frantic call about <i>Stiles</i> being in trouble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out Of Sight

Derek glares at the display on his phone. He knows for a fact that things are good in Beacon Hills. It's not because he left that he doesn't have ears to the ground (read: Isaac, Stiles and Ethan). So whatever Scott is calling about could have waited a few more hours. “It's nine in the morning on a Sunday,” he growls as a greeting. “I've been gone _five days_ , Scott.”

“This is important, Derek. Don't hang up on me!” Scott lets out in a rush.

Derek grits his teeth. He's going to at least listen to Scott before he does, or else he wouldn't have picked up. He finds no will in himself to actually explain that much, however. “I'm listening,” he prompts, sarcastic, when Scott doesn't resume talking on his own.

“I think Stiles' in trouble.”

Derek closes his eyes and sighs, then he hikes his body further up his pillow. “What makes you say that?”

“He's gone, Derek.” There's deep concern in the boy's voice. “He's... He left me a voicemail saying he was going out of town for the weekend, camping or something. He told his dad the same thing.”

Derek pinches the bridge of his nose. “So? You think he'll get attacked by squirrels?”

“No, dude, this isn't funny!” Scott protests. “His dad said he seemed nervous. I... I don't know, I didn't talk to him directly but...” Derek can hear what sounds like Scott running a frustrated hand through his hair. “I think he's been taken. Someone could have forced him to do this. You know? So we wouldn't know he's missing.”

The kid watches too much Criminal Minds. “ _Why?_ ”

“I don't know! Don't we usually peace together 'why' once the bodies start piling up?! I don't want to find Stiles' body, man.”

The distress in Scott's voice makes Derek deflate in sympathy. “Stiles' fine, Scott.”

“No, he's not!” Scott is working himself up in a panic. “Seriously, can you picture Stiles on a camping trip? _Alone_?! Without his laptop?! His phone's turned off! He didn't even tell me! This can't be-...”

“Stiles is _fine_ , Scott.” Derek repeats, firm and reassuring.

“Are you listening?! He's missi-...”

Derek groans and hits his head backwards on the pillow. “Hang on.” Derek holds the phone away from himself. "Deal with this. I'm not equipped."

"Patience and love, dude." Stiles takes the phone from him, smirking, and covers the mouthpiece. "Oh. And disgust," he adds, before pressing the phone to his ear. "Scott, ma man. I'm touched, really. But I'm fine. More than.” He pokes at Derek's ribs, the werewolf huffs and shakes his head. “Like I said, I'm taking a weekend off. Little R&R. A _lot_ of TLC.” He traces a figure eight on Derek's pectoral absently as he speaks, then pokes at the skin and frowns at Scott. “Which... by the way, you have the worst timing, you know that? Just when we were getting started on round three."

Derek laughs. Stiles, sprawled on top of him, shakes with the movement. Something flips in the werewolf's chest at watching the brilliant smile it brings on. Stiles hands him the phone back with a chuckle. “See? He called me names and hung up.”

When Derek turns back from setting his phone back on the nightstand, he finds Stiles with his chin resting on his flattened hand, staring up at him with a soft smile. Derek cocks an eyebrow. “ _Round three?_ ”

Stiles' body gives a slight wriggle, which Derek as learned to recognize as an alternative form of shrugging. “Planning ahead.”

Derek folds both arms above his head for a quick stretch, clamps his jaw on a yawn, then tugs Stiles up to his level. Their lips meet in an unhurried kiss. Derek's always felt exposed showing or admitting that he enjoys kissing just for the sake of it, but Stiles hasn't looked tempted to mock even once. He seems to relish it just as much. He brings a hand to slide over the round of Stiles' ass and slip down the curve of his lower back, where it settles, splayed wide. Stiles lets out an approving noise and lets a thigh fall between Derek's. It's amazing how they slot together so well, cocooned in the warmth of the covers.

When the drag of Stiles' tongue against his starts to give him goosebumps, Derek pulls back and lays a few nips at the coner of Stiles' mouth. “Speaking of plans....” He speaks against Stiles' lips, chasing them playfully. “How about... toasted ham and cheese sandwich, hash browns... and then round _two_ , first?”

Stiles lets out a filthy groan and flops against his shoulder with a blissed grin. It's all because of the promise of food, Derek knows it. He tries not to take it personally. “You're never gonna get rid of me,” Stiles warns.

The werewolf presses the side of his face against Stiles' hairline pensively. After a while, he admits sincerely “I'm okay with that.”

Stiles pushes himself up, eyes warm and a vibrant Whiskey color. Derek shivers with the intensity of Stiles' next kiss. They've always been good at subtext and unspoken communication.

It takes them a good fifteen more minutes to get started on breakfast.


End file.
